On a very cold winter’s evening, I arrived in Cincinnati after a very long delay at the airport. In my rush to get everything organized, I forgot my coat in the car back in Joplin and as I deplaned, felt the chill in the air, was sorry my coat was left behind.
The local rep with the attitude of one who has been in business his whole life and can teach me a few tricks, was unsympathetic to my plight. Because he wanted to take charge of all details, the reservations at the local hotel were done without my input; the hotel was a throwback to the Mediterranean décor which went out of favor about 40 years ago, along with King Arthur furniture. The carpet was almost bare, the laminated furniture was peeling, the bed covers resembled a very washed out quilt and the towels in the bathroom barely covered the racks.
I was grateful to find a warm place to stay, so my complaints went unspoken. We had a very nice dinner with his wife and organized the week ahead with multiple appointments and informational meetings.
Once back at the hostel, I unpacked and started to organize the different outfits for the week ahead, and to my surprise, the closet was lined with female clothing, the drawers filled with shoes and stockings, the desk had cords hanging on the side, the bathroom had many different creams and toiletries and there was no room for my personal items.
Got on the phone and called the desk asking for a different room, as apparently there was another person occupying this one. The desk informed me there was no one assigned to my room and to continue my stay, there would be no problem.
My immediate response was to ask about another person holding the key to the room who would show up to reclaim her belongings at a later hour, but the desk insisted there was no one assigned to the room, once again.
There was no need to argue; the front desk knows what they’re talking about, don’t they? Still, as confused as I was feeling, I decided to leave my belongings in the suitcase and handbag, just in case I would receive an untimely knock on the door from the person who left the items in the room.
I made sure to put a chair underneath the doorknob to use as an alarm and to wake me up if someone tried to enter the room in the middle of the night to reclaim her belongings. I was not very comfortable with the idea of falling asleep and waking up to someone banging on the door in the middle of the night, but there was no alternative.
Sure enough, about 2 am the door started rattling and sounded as if the FBI was trying to shoot its way into the room; the walls and the floor were shaking, the doorknob was being pulled, the chain on the door was about to dislodge from the wall and here I was in my pajamas trying to wake up and make sense of the situation.
Without hesitation the front desk clerk came running upstairs, received a tongue lashing from the female guest who explained she had paid for the week and her room should have been saved, and here I was in the middle of this war, in my pajamas. I was too tired to get dressed, so I just picked up my suitcase, my handbag and was led to a different room where I was alone and unable to get back to sleep. Another trip filled with drama.